There are really only 2 reactions I get when I say that I live in the south/Alabang- "Ang layo!" and or a ponkan size gawk. You may be part pack who have called it far, a probinsya and what-not, but this time, walang aangal. Contrary to popular belief, I need not leave Alabang at 5.30 am to get to Makati by 7. 6.30 leaves enough time to beat traffic and maybe even snag Mc Do for breakfast. This entry is my ode to the south- its comfort, pleasantry and yes, sensibility.

    For starters, we peacefully co-exist with everyone else. You can go to Town Center (to others, its ATC or worse, Alabang Town) in your drabbest clothes and not be labelled as specimen 001, the one with a yucky shirt and even yuckier bottom. Truth be told, people here actually go to the mall in shabby clothes that are ready to be donated to Ukay-ukay. Walang pakialaman dito. Nonchalance is king when it comes to clothing. Also, we have a keen sense of direction and high tolerance for heavy traffic. We don't get lost Amazing Race style once we're not in our area anymore. In fact, a lot of us double as navigators in the QC and Makati areas. Makati people produce weird facial contortions once they're outside their area. They must be lost. About the traffic... Traversing a 13 km highway just to get in and out of home is a bit whacked, I have to admit, but it gives ample time to master our school work cramming skills.

    The people are one thing and the place is another. The south is the place to eat in especially with BF around. The restaurants there give meaning to the word gourmet- real and feigned. Sidewalks here actually serve their purpose. Whereas in other places... Wait, what sidewalks? Oh and did I boast that you can actually go out and about without feeling your lungs fall apart? Ding ding ding!!! We have clean air baby. The south is also the place where many great things start. The layout of Greenbelt is a spin off of Town Center. Brooklyn Pizza, Bravo and Frio Mixx trace their roots back here. It is a normal occurence for SnR sized pizza to be sold at 50 bucks and Boracay worthy bikinis at 550. Shame on PizzaHut and Roxy.

    Ok, so maybe an E-pass is a freaky foreign body to attach to your car and the area beyond our perimeter fence is a totally different zip code but for everything this area has and stands for, the south is the place to be.

   Today was enrollment day in De La Salle University's College of Business and Economics. Events occurred in real time.

1130-1230 hrs: Lunch time at Merce’s. You read that right. Merce’s not Mc Do. I am a freshman in denial. I refuse to be the newest student in the UMD- University of Mc Donald’s. Merce's has the best el-cheapo Chinese food, pinasosyal na HenLin.

1230-1315: OPRES- Lasallian moniker for the Office of the President. I have dreams of occupying the highest seat in Lasallian politics but that would mean dethroning Boobita Rose. Thanks to my sister, I met and greeted a student council officer who could give a masikip sa dibdib Rufa Mae Quinto impersonation. She even shared about other Rufa Mae movies like Love Kita, Final Answer! with matching voice over, of course. Hearing her say that the College of Business and Economics was the best in La Salle just didn’t sound credible. It was a good laugh nonetheless. Her aside, I saw what it was like to be in the “SAC office” of a school that puts its political exercise on a pedestal. One word to describe it: ASTIG!

1315-1600: Lining up, cutting the line by a good 100 people and window hopping just to realize that my accounting class will be at 8 am every Tuesday and Thursday… Did I mention that my first ever subject on my first term is Commerce Math? Enough said.

    My summer days are numbered. While most of you will remain happy occupants of dreamland til June, I will be calculating the possible permutations in the seating arrangement of the Uys, Tans and Sys in my Accounting class. It has come to this ladies and gents. My alcohol dreams and bumming days are down to the big 1-8.

Every new beginning
Comes from some other
Beginnings end.

    I belong to block C50 with classmates who provide Boracay nostalgia- "Wacky" (smaller, thinner version minus the shot glass) and a bunch of others who were there at about the same time I was. They will be my family for the next 3 terms. We take pride in the fact that we have a UAAP friendly schedule (no Thrusday afternoon classes!!!) and that our raport, although only in the fledgling stage, is nowhere near the drain.

    After two days of Freshmen orientation, I realized that Lasallians are really fuelled by passion. We were introduced to student orgs and leaders who are crazy about doing their stuff even when school is over. We met a marketing summa cum laude candidate who is very active in the student council. We were greeted by all the orgs in true celebrity style- upper classmen screeming our block's name and giving away all kinds of freebies. We were even facilitated by "Lasallian ambassadors" who are crazy about their school enough to stay in it even during summer. On top of this were ALL the performances of the cultural orgs that showed off their moves and sang to their hearts' delight. Their passion just makes everything difficult seem so fun. Let's put it this way, graduates come back just to be active again in their orgs. Lasallian passion is contagious, to say the least.

    Speaking of orgs, I just realized na ang lakas pala ng hatak ng kapatid ko especially in the student council. Once my identity was reduced to ang kapatid ni Rina, people would profess their friendship with her. Bidang bida ako when we entered the student council office. I didn't just get the generic greeting, "Welcome frosh!" A voice from the corner screamed "Welcome ISA!" I had a very personal introduction even as I was about to tongue twist during the CBE program. "Hey guys! This is our next contestant, Isa.. Ahh.. Marfori yan! Kapatid ni Rina." *two hosts sigh* "She went to school in Assumption." All the other contestants just got the usual, "This is ______ from block __." I find it rather amazing how I am lurking in Rina territory. Just goes to show, that you can really make something of yourself in college.

    The ding ding ding moment of my day was the end of today's pep rally. Everyone- upper classmen and froshies- just ended up dancing in the gym, Cocomanggas style. It was one of those moments that made me think, maybe Taft is really the place to be. (Coming from someone who never even wanted to step into Taft, that statement is something.)

_ _ _ I _ _ B _ I _ _ I _ _
    The blanks and letters are not a result of a lost hangman game. That is actually the spelling of nation building, Pinoy style. Our notion of nation building is plagued with the I, the self. A little grammar lesson here. With the number in mind, I refers only to one distinct thing or person. Case wise, I is objective or first person. In other words, nation building has never really been about the nation. For our politicians, it has always been about how to become richer and how to give back to those donors and contributors who put them into position.

    Thankfully, our forefathers, who were probably under the influence of intense nationalism, created something called the law which eventually included the right to suffrage. Translated into the vernacular, that would mean being given another shot to weed out the traditional politicians and install new blood into government through a process called elections.

    And so, a fateful Monday comes and this thing called elections is put into place. All Ateneans, Lasallians and UP-ians make the wise choice here, please? First up for the presidency is an incumbent president who's biggest mistake was marrying her kurakot of a husband and not having the balls to reprimand him. Not agreeing with statusquo is a former police chief who promises to eradicate corruption. Sounds good but his means is murder, with a cherry on top. Putting up a good fight as well is a thespian. As for his credentials, do numerous acting awards and box-office hits count? At the bottom heap is a former education secretary who'll probably rule the country based on his cancer. Last but not the least is an arrogant televangelist waiting for heaven to shower us with miracles. This roster should be a no brainer. With people like this, progress will be light years away. To remedy the situation, adults bank on the kids, the youth. Fine.

(On being desensitized)

Instructions: Underline the activities you were part of.
Boracay, Batangas beach trip, inumans, nights-out, Boobita movie night, sleepovers, picnic in Cam's, sleepovers, nomad nights, Cocomanggas nights, parties

    That is a run-down of my summer.

    Thanks to the trimestral system my school slaves its students with, I will be saying goodbye to my summer a little earlier than usual. (This goes for all Lasallians.) There should be no problem with this except that all the other Siopitohs minus Cielo, will be studying in a place where the hills come alive and blue eagles soar high. Due to our conflicts in schedule, nag-aaral na ko, summer pa rin nila. Great!

    To make myself feel better, I go on a reminiscing spree with any willing victim but usually on my own. There has never been a day that I didn't think of the summer slams and draws: Boracay, Batangas and many other things I'd rather forget like losing my phone, hangover mornings etc etc. I feel like I'm losing out on so many things I should be doing. It doesn't help that on my last week of summer, I will be forced to go on exile in Cagayan. The place is great but that's the last place I want to be in now. That leaves me with a weekend, plus 1 1/2 days in Manila. See, I've calculated and am trying to maximize every bit of summer I have left.

    I think this is what you call murder by jealousy.

    I didn't come home with a new tan but with the realization that the stork dropped me in the correct door of the correct family. After a week of family bonding, I have come to the conclusion that the third generation of my mom's family (me and my cousins) are genetically inclined to partake of food + gossip. The combination is dangerous. The effects are lethal.

    Hot topic of most tita-pamangkin discussions was the new wife of my cousin. Titas claim that she has very dubious motives and movements. If we were just a showbiz clan, the stories would be juicy enough to fill the headlines of Abante tabloid and snag immeasurable airtime in The Buzz. Then again, we aren't a showbiz clan, so my titas perform as alternate Boy Abundas with the matching guffaw. For a certain time, they sounded like me and my sister making tsismis. (I'm such an Assumptionista!) Being the deep penetration agent (dpa) that I am, I practiced utmost responsibility: no proof, no diss. Besides, I didn't see anything wrong with this girl so I was no rumor mongger. But if you consider occasional hirits and laughter along with the hot topic, then maybe I was. Moral of the story: Be careful whom you marry. In-laws can talk about you in ways you never deemed possible.

    When I wasn't busy performing duties as a dpa, I reluctantly admit that I had fun exploring a minute part of the tropical forests of Mindanao. It kinda reminded of a scene in the movie, The Beach. This time around, it wasn't Richard versus the Thai dope guards but me against the dwendes. After an untoward dwende incident some weeks back, I've learned to practice utmost caution navigating unchartered grassy territory. You never know who your stepping on or who's house you've wrecked. Moral of the story: Say tabi-tabi po. Always. (Thankfully, I only suffered injuries of the mortal kind, mga kagat ng langgam sa paa.)

    For now, it's back to the hellhole. And I love it.

    Effective Monday, May 24, I will be part of the thousands competing for every inch of space in the 5 hectare lot of La Salle. Imagine 6 thousand people cramped in a space as big as Assumption. That is definitely a claustrophobe's nightmare. Fortunately, I do not have claustrohobic tendencies but it scares me to think that I will be coming this close (moves forefinger and thumb closer) to college.

    Toping my list of college fears is carpooling. I've been carpooling all my high school life but the thought of riding in a complete COLLEGE stranger's car is disturbing and unnerving. What if we don't click? My claim to mass boy is that I have around 5 Alabang friends versus his zero friends. (Hehe...) What if my count doesn't increase? Am I destined to be an outcast in the carpool? (turn on suspenseful music) NO!!!

    Fear number 2. Math. Rm 403 Yuchengco Building. 7 AM. All I have to do is enter that room at that designated time. The problem is I wasn't listening during our campus tour. Now, I am not sure how to traverse the path to this wretched class. I am aptly calling this fear lagim ng room 403.

    Last and definetely the most trivial of all my college fears is that of not having a PE uniform. I have the biggest feeling I won't be able to get one... ever. Stupid fear. Enough said.

    I am glad that my block-oh!-phobia has been eradicated. In fact, we even already have a block yahoogroup. One of them may even be reading this right now. Break time and class time should be no problem.

    Do you know that sick feeling you get when you're drunk and feel like vomitting but have not yet released those slaves? That's how I feel when I think of college. After posting this entry, I may just run to the bathroom, make myself comfy by the sink and make all hell in my innards break loose.

    They've had their fair share of outfits that wrongfully screamed their telephone numbers er... vital statistics, 38-30-39. At the same time, they've had their grand entrances that left everyone gawking in delight. But their difference lies in being a specimen in the social microscope. A picture of their brouhahas and shining moments magnified 10x compete for newspace. I'm not referring to celebrities but other people who are in an eqaully high stature- people of high society.

    My fascination with them stems from all the weekends I've indulged myself in the lifestyle section of the newspapers. I've been a fan of the ditzy but loveable from Cofee to Cocktails by Celine Lopez. I'm an avid follower of the Sea Princess' fashion misses and direct hits. (My mouth dropped when I saw her doning aqua blue heals under what looked like spray painted silver jeans during PE class.) For the past how many months I've been amazed at how these people have been filling their calendars with social shebangs and appointments with their favorite designers. All this while countless third world countries (like ours) die of hunger.

    Seeing glitz and glamour in 2 dimensional newspapers leaves me with more questions than answers. Do they practice to get that secret lang-na-galing-ako-kay-Dr. Bello pose? How big are the bank accounts of these Barbies and Kens? What diet works better for them, Atkins or South Beach? When all the fancy rides are parked and make-up rubbed off, are they really happy?

    Or am I just plain jealous? Maybe this article is a product of my knowing that I will never reach that stature because I don't have the 4 C's required to be featured in Maurice Arcache's column, moreso to become the next "it" girl- the clan, the cash, the conncetions and the cheek bones. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't have dreams of being #1 in the Tattler Ball guestlist even with presence of cheap cosmetic surgeons. You can throw me in the middle of nowhere land even with just one of my friends and I'll be happy. So, am I really jealous? I think I'm just really tsimosa, a pakialamera... and a tad bit jealous.

    What exactly is a deep penetration agent/dpa? If Ricky Lo were here, he'd tell you that it simply means a spy. But the job isn't as dirty as it sounds. It's just a matter of knowing how to get the right answers in a very subtle matter at the right time. That, plus a keen (sometimes elusive) sense of logic, should allow you to master the art of putting two and two together. The only hardware you'll be needing is a bionic set of ears and quick pick-up.

    There are two types of DPA- self confessed and closet cases. As always, there is a gray area. You can go all out with some "cases" and stay hush hush with others. It's just a matter of knowing who to divulge secrets to. Sometimes, it helps to unload (but not everything) to someone.

    There are some dpas who work alone, in secret, while others decide to share the "mission" with others. Now, what happens when the ultimate blogwhore and master dpa volt-in?



Abangan ang susunod na kabanata...

Quotable quotes on the first day of the first semester of the first year of college from my first few teachers:

"Math aims to imbibe discipline in you. If you don't have any, buy some."

"Take care of your health. You get all your diseases in college."

"If you have perfect attendance, no tardiness or absence in my Reiligion class, you will be exempted from the final exams."

During Sociology class:
Teacher: Ok, let's haggle for the passing grade in this class. Babaan natin ang 60%. Oi, mga marketing majors kayo, magaling dapat kayo dito. Any takers for 50%?
Class: everyone raises their hand
Teacher: How about 40%?
Class: everyone still raises their hand
Teacher: Those who want 50%, go to AMA. Those who want for 40%, dun kayo sa STI. How about 30%?
Student (under his breath): God bless this class.

!!!LATEST!!!
During Critical Thinking class:
Teacher na rackista: What do you want to do today?
Student: Aral na tayo sir!
Teacher: ULOOOOL! First day palang ah...

    If this an indicator of how life will be at least for the first term of this school year, things will be very very interesting.

In the spirit of high school notes and lectures, I will be posting 5 guide questions:

1. Why are books so expensive? A P1200 accounting book that will be used for six months only....
2. Why does a 50++ page, 2 chapter sociology reading assignment have NO guide questions?
3. Is the mortality rate of accounting that high, that they had to lower the passing mark? (not that I want to go to STI or AMA... read this if you don't understand)
4. Why do carpools have to be inefficient?
5. Since when did teachers enter classrooms in shades, combat boots and earphones?

    Reading the wretched item in #2 just made me appreciate all the Fili and History guide questions I never answered.

    I got away then. Can I make it again this time?

__________________________
QUOTABLE QUOTE for TODAY:
"I write for a woman's magazine. I used to be called Dr. Sex."
--- Psychology teacher

    Yesterday, Accounting class got me so sabaw that I just had to bug my seatmates who suggested that we put up an ukay-ukay. Today, I spent half of my two-hour lunch break with people who are just as crazy over Mr. Boardshorts (communal crush) as I am. Tomorrow, I will be trying my very best to make friends with blockmates whose hirits I laugh at but whose names I can't seem to remember.

    I have comfort zone issues I try to deal with everyday. Notice the lack of people whose school names begin with A, end with N and have the letters S-S-U-M-P-T-I and O in the middle?

    One year ago, I never pictured myself typing this entry because of all the high school friendships I was attached to. Today, I realized that these have been reduced to shards. One year from now, who knows what will happen...

    I once defined absolute happiness as being with friends and doing things we all love to do. But then that happiness will be every hard to achieve because the walls are closing in and the connecting wires that once existed among friends is slowly being cut-off. Sometimes it just becomes very hard to relate with them.

    2 days ago, a friend told me that if I had just fixed my college papers i would have ended somewhere else. If it was just for my friends there, I would have loved to go. Today, I realized that I can't get everything I want. Tomorrow, I know the trade-offs will be worth it.